


The Ballad of Cephalon Kaiva

by MalthusIndex



Category: Warframe
Genre: Ballad, Gen, One Shot, Prose Poem, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalthusIndex/pseuds/MalthusIndex
Summary: A little ballad-style poem told from the perspective of Kaiva, the janitorial Cephalon on board one of the Tenno relays.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	The Ballad of Cephalon Kaiva

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little dumb idea I had about a janitorial Cephalon. I have no idea if Kaiva will ever turn up in anything else, but I liked the idea when I accidentally came up with it at 8 in the morning.

Day by day, she roams the halls,

Few Tenno know her name,

If anything on the Relay falls,

Then Kaiva takes the blame.

It’s been this way for many years,

Far more than poor Kaiva has known.

All she does is sweet up the dust,

But it’s a worthy cause all on its own.

She doesn’t mind the other Cephalons,

And the Tenno are quite kind too.

But they make a mess every time they turn up,

And she’s the whole cleaning crew.

It takes days to clean the whole Relay again,

And by then all the dust has returned.

Kaiva just want a day to herself,

But it’s a luxury she hasn’t earned.

Suda, the nice one, is friendly to her

But they don’t really speak these days.

Kaiva’s a janitor, and Suda is smart,

So they eventually went different ways.

Simaris, the angry one, yells all the time.

He hates her coming in to clean.

It’s her job, doesn’t he understand?

There’s no need to be so mean.

Amaryn, the fat one, is even worse.

She kicks Kaiva whenever they pass.

If she had a humanoid body,

She’d shove that hat up her [[ **message corrupted** ]].

The Grineer is nice, she smiles quite a lot,

But she always sounds tired inside.

Kaiva would give her a huge if she could,

But her lack of arms is implied.

All Kaiva does, day in and day out,

Is trundle around, cleaning floors.

Her brain resides in a domestik drone,

Too tiny to activate doors.

Nobody remembers her name these days.

Kaiva thinks it’s for the best.

She doesn’t mind, she liked cleaning up,

She just wishes she wasn’t so stressed.

Eventually, one day, her motor broke down,

Right in the middle of her sweep.

Now she sits in a closet, alone.

At least she can finally sleep.


End file.
